Everything is Coming Up Sevens
by StarCrossdSparrow
Summary: Veronica and Logan go, er, undercover to bust a drug dealer. Gambling smut ensues. Fluffy, smutty LoVe.


Title: Everything is Coming Up Sevens  
Author: StarCrossdSparrow  
Pairing/Characters: Veronica/Logan, Keith, Back Up, mention of Lamb and Cliff  
Rating: NC-17... for sex, drugs, and rock and roll!  
Chapter: 1/1  
Word Count: 6262  
Disclaimer: RT is the master of all things "Veronica Mars." I'll put everyone back when I'm done so please don't sue.  
Spoilers: Through 3x04 "Charlie Don't Surf" but nothing too specific.  
Summary: Why can't anyone play a simple hand of poker, score some blow, and go to bed happy? No, things have to go all smut-shaped!  
Author's Note: Written for the "Loveathons High Roller Challenge" at LJ comm loveathons. I got lucky when I found two incredible (and incredibly patient) betas. This bit would be a pile of useless words without them. Thanks to the Goddess of Grammar, rejeneration and the Siren of Syntax, erin2326... whatever they touch turns to gold.

**XxXxXxX**

Veronica Mars was nervous and she hated being nervous.

"This is the worst idea. Ever." The tiny blonde blew a shiny curl off of her forehead as she tugged at the hem of a red party dress that might have been cellophane for all it was covering. The tag that had still been attached when Veronica purchased the garment claimed that it had originally been purchased at Bergdorf Goodman for the discount price of $1700. It was amazing what one could find at a thrift store in Neptune if one looked hard enough. That was a game of chance that she actually enjoyed.

She'd paid eight dollars and fifty seven cents (including tax) for the raspberry garment, chosen simply because it had looked like a reasonable amount of fabric in the dusty light at N's Oodles. However, once she had it on, she found that Mister Zac Posen had designed a garment that dipped to the center of her small breasts, exaggerating their size to just this side of ample. And while the hem fell all the way to her knees, the fabric clung to her every curve making her choice of panties a difficult trick. All the while, the dress displayed every part of her body in the best way. Veronica made a mental note to find this Posen character and shake him down for a wand. He was obviously some sort of magician.

Logan poked a head out from the bathroom. He was primping, fluffing, and zhooshing enough to make Kyan Douglas proud. "It's a great idea. Fun shall be had. Bad guys shall be caught. And I shall win lots and lots of money while the competition ogles your goodies."

"Do you care that you're pimping me out? Because, I think my dad might care," Veronica teased, reaching for the minuscule black bag that held her phone, an emergency lip gloss, and her keys. And maybe a bug or two. She'd been a Girl Scout; she knew all about preparedness.

Logan stepped from around the corner. Hit with the full force of his two-button charcoal suit, cut dangerously close against his tall, lean frame, Veronica dropped her hand away from her bag and stared, momentarily speechless.

Logan cocked an eyebrow and a grin to match, flicking his cuff link closed with equal measures of suave and smug. "Rumor has it that every girl is crazy about a sharp dressed man."

Veronica snorted a laugh and folded her arms across her chest, jutting one hip and tilting her head. "ZZ Top, was it? Scratch this from the Big List-O-Things I Thought I'd Never Say: You've spent far too much time around my dad."

Logan shrugged and closed the distance between them, running his hands over her bare arms, loving her warmth and the gooseflesh that appeared wherever he touched her. "Well, next week we're tuning up a vintage Jag. You want to play the role of Tawny Kitaen?"

Veronica shivered and inhaled the spicy scent of some expensive aftershave. Sage, sandalwood, cedar. Under that was another scent. Something uniquely Logan. Sort of soapy, but pleasant and warm. It was the scent that made her remember twisted sheets, heads thrown back, delicate moans. She forgot to be nervous as she dared a glance up at him.

His lids were lowered, and he was watching her through the fringe of his eyelashes. He was so clearly defined when they were that close and no words hung between them. Adam's apple. Jaw. Soft lips.

He dropped his mouth to hers. As his tongue traced the seam of her lips, teasing them apart, she moaned. He half-pushed, half-carried her backward to the sofa. Pressed between the hard length of him and the low back of the couch, she returned his hot, hard kisses, thrust for parry.

As his thumb grazed a bare nipple through the delicate silk of the diaphanous dress, Veronica moaned against him, hitching one leg around his. For a moment, she was glad of the ridiculous four-and-a-half inch black Manolo knockoffs. She didn't have to stand on her toes to reach him and their hips were nearly flush.

Logan grinned against her, continuing his assault as his other hand wandered up from her knee, hitching the flimsy fabric as it went. When he discovered one particular garment missing, he stood back to search her face. "You planned this." The accusation was softened by his broad, eager smile.

With a laugh, Veronica laid her hands on his wool suit coat and pushed him away. "If we start this, we'll never get to the casino. And, I can't run out and get another dress in time if this one goes all Monica Lewinsky."

Logan frowned, leaving his full palm on her bare hip. "I can skip the gambling for this," he gave her rear a squeeze and grinned down at her.

"Well, I have to score some coke from one Madeline Carey. And you have to play the part of the desperate gambler to my drug addict so our vices come off as romantic and not forced. So, we need to skedaddle, Kenny."

"As in Rogers? I think you need to spend _more _time with your dad. Your cool points are at an all time low," Logan teased as he opened the door for her.

Veronica wrinkled her nose as she palmed her bag and followed his lead. "Hey, all I'm saying is, you've got to know when to hold 'em and know when to-" she was cut off as he laid a hand across her mouth.

"Don't say the 'F' word."

"Fuck?" she mumbled through his fingers.

Logan grinned, "No, the other one. It's bad luck. And, I love it when you talk dirty. Consider your cool quotient on the rise."

"Oh, thank the Greaser Gods. I'm only one racial epithet and the pink to a T-bird away from earning my jacket!"

"Oh, come on Mars. We both know you're too pure to be pink." He winked at her as the elevator doors slid shut. And on their way down, she did her very best to prove him wrong.

**XxXxXxX**

Veronica laid her hand on the gold handle that opened into the Explorations Casino and Resort, just south of San Diego. Feeling a familiar sensation tingle across her neck, Veronica turned to her boyfriend, "Starting the ogling early?"

Logan nodded sharply. "No wonder you're a detective."

Veronica smirked and pushed through the door with Logan at her heels.

The casino was called Explorations because it boasted seven "destinations" for gambling; each of the separate areas were themed with a different gambling locale. Veronica had expected the casino to be hokey and obscene. However, it was pristine, shining like a new penny or a freshly minted gold bar.

Apparently, the main room was Vegas, most gamblers' Mecca. Various tables grew like weeds around a swamp of slot machines. The slots were busy, noisy, and bright, pandering to the quarter plunking set. The tables welcomed those more intent on losing their paychecks. Some of the guests looked a little worse for the wear, even so early in the evening.

Veronica sensed eyes on her and her cheeks burned. She felt overdressed in the silk dress and peep-toe heels. This place, with all its polished hard wood and swanky chandeliers, was filled to the brim with all sorts of people who considered an LA Kings hat and un-scuffed Nikes appropriate attire for a night on the town. Not that she disagreed, but Logan had insisted that the game was going to be a pretty formal affair.

She glanced up at him as he surveyed the joint. He caught her uneasy gaze and squeezed her hand as he led her through the room to a bank of elevators. "Come on, babe. Let's go get debauched in style." He punched the '7' and the elevator doors dinged open.

As they ascended, Veronica deliberately kept her distance from Logan for the short ride, not wanting a repeat performance of their last elevator trip. He didn't seem to mind, so Veronica thought about the case at hand.

Veronica's sudden interest in poker was really her father's interest in Madeline Carey. Madeline had apparently been on the right end of a big score that could be implicit in nailing drug kingpin, Jesse "Traz" Trasinski. If Veronica could score with Maddie, Keith could blackmail her into giving up Traz. Wearing a wire had also been a trick in the slippery silk number.

At her dad's request, she'd told a gleeful Logan to accept an invitation to the high stakes poker game where Madeline was going to be playing. Apparently, not only was Mads a coke dealer, she was also a mathematical genius and quite the card shark.

Logan had been the one to offer Veronica the one thousand dollar buy in. He claimed it was a good investment, as it bought him a whole night of guilt-free poker. And, no matter how well she played, she'd serve as a distraction for the rest of the table while he raked in the cash. And, he admitted, she'd also be something pretty and shiny for him to gloat over along with his pile of chips.

She'd taken his offer after much coaxing on Logan's part. She'd seen his financial records, and while he was certainly wealthier than she'd even imagined, he was still bleeding money. But, she was banking on both of their skills at the card table to keep it from being a waste of cash.

Logan grinned down at her, gallantly taking her arm as they arrived at the top floor of the casino. They were instantly transported from a noisy, bustling Las Vegas slot room to a chic, sedate room populated with a handful of people. Veronica breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the guests were dressed as she was. One particular man in a suit that covered, but didn't keep Veronica's mind off of, a set of perfect abs was walking toward them: Connor Larkin, their host.

"Logan Echolls!" the handsome actor boomed happily as he clapped Logan on the back, "Good to see you, man! I didn't think you were going to show. It's been so long." Connor was either a very good actor or genuinely glad to see Logan. Even Veronica wasn't sure which.

Logan smiled and shook Connor's hand. "Been busy. Like you. Congrats on the Globe, man."

Connor smiled sheepishly. "Thanks. Though it took me playing a deaf-mute dying of AIDS to get it." He chuckled and turned to Veronica. "Veronica, right?" Connor looked her up and down before meeting her eyes. Veronica noted that his smile was more appreciative after his appraisal. She grinned foolishly and was about to respond when he continued, "I remember the last time I sat across the felt from you. Almost left me broke!" He chortled again and took her hand, pressing his lips to it, much to Veronica's delight. "Good to see you again."

Veronica decided that Connor Larkin was one hundred percent sincere and burbled a "You too!" as she felt Logan's arm snake around her waist possessively.

Connor fixed her with one last half-leer, half-smile before he looked over her shoulder. "Oh, well, I'll see you both at the table. I've got to see a man about a martini. Have a good time tonight."

As soon as Connor was gone, Logan turned toward Veronica, the light in his eyes considerably dimmed. "Oh, it's so nice to see you, Connor. Kiss my hand again, Connor. Let me have your babies, Connor," he simpered in a falsetto.

Veronica rolled her eyes and laid her palms on his chest. "Jealousy? I think I like where this is going." She laughed at his frown and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "As much as I appreciate the boiling blood, you have to keep your mind on your cards. I don't date losers."

Logan snorted, but a smile was back on his lips. "Greg Stevens. Fifth grade. And let's not forget Troy."

Veronica smirked up at him, "Do we really want to dig up mistakes,_ honeybee_? What about that Paris Hilton wannabe, Caitlin?" Veronica laughed at Logan's expression. It was a mix of disgust and annoyance. "And, besides, Greg Stevens was cool in fifth grade. He had a Super Nintendo and _Donkey Kong Country_."

Logan pretended to mull it over and grinned, "Okay. You win this round. Donkey Kong rocks. But, we break even on Ford and Vandegraff."

Veronica shrugged, and smiled up at him. They had successfully navigated a talk, albeit a superficial one, about exes. This _was_ going to be a winning night. And, with The W on her mind, she caught her first glimpse of Madeline Carey over Logan's shoulder.

Ms. Carey was draped in more ice than even P. Diddy thought necessary. She practically gave off a light of her own, albeit a murky one. She was miles beyond tacky, what with the snakeskin tube she'd apparently painted onto her lithe body, red spike heels, and her wildly gesticulating orange fingertips. Topping off the ensemble was a cloud of blonde hair, Aqua Netted to within an inch of being plastic.

Her captive audience was a large, bald African-American man. He was wearing a fedora, and from what Veronica could see, a ring the size of a baseball. She nodded her chin toward them. "Whose the guy with our coke dealer?"

Logan turned to glance at the pair. "Terrence Sach."

Veronica quirked an eyebrow. "The football player?"

Logan nodded and led her toward the bar. "Yeah. He went to Neptune High before he got drafted out of Michigan State. Won a Super Bowl back in, like, 1976 or something."

"It was '79. The same year my mom graduated high school."

"You certainly know a lot about this. Passing fancy in butch lesbianism make you bone up on sports knowledge or is it Trivial Pursuit? Because I'd be okay with either." He handed her a Grey Goose and cranberry and tapped his own bottle of Jekyll Island against it. "Cheers."

Veronica sipped the drink and fought the grimace at the sharp taste of the vodka. "No, my dad just knows a lot about it." She cut her gaze toward the couple, who were now sharing an awkward looking silence. "Shall we introduce ourselves?"

Logan nodded and they headed in that direction as a bell sounded. The conversational buzz died immediately and all attention refocused toward the sound. Connor was standing with a man in white tuxedo, beaming at his audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd like to play a little poker tonight, our first hand begins now. The game is no-limit Texas Hold 'em. There will be no re-buys tonight, so I suggest you play your very best. Please, take your seats."

Veronica felt Logan's energy nearly reach a breaking point as he guided her toward the table. Outwardly, he appeared calm, bored even. But, Veronica could tell that he was nearly heady with glee.

Logan chose the seat directly across from the dealer. Veronica was to his right. To her right was a young brunette woman with an air of naivety about her. Connor took the seat to her right just to the left of the dealer. Madeline sat on the opposite of the dealer. She'd be the last to bet. Between Logan and Madeline sat Terrence and another man Veronica didn't know.

Connor made the introductions. "This is Kayla Lane. She's an actress and she's going to be in my next film." The brunette gave a little wave. Both Logan and Veronica silently doubted she was going to be in any blockbusters anytime soon. While pretty, she looked more like a struggling waitress than a movie star. And either she made phenomenal tips or she was Connor's flavor of the month.

He introduced Logan and Veronica next. The man next to Logan turned out to be Connor's agent, Stephen Grant. Next was Terrence. Madeline was introduced last as a mumbly afterthought. She didn't seem to notice.

Bets went around and hands came and went. Stephen was a chip-shuffler. Kayla blinked every time she had a good hand. Connor and Terrence just looked bored and both folded often. Veronica was slowly amassing a fortune in chips after one resolute victory over Connor's bluff (full boat, jacks carrying aces to Connor's queen high) and one successful bluff of her own (everyone folded before the big reveal). Logan was bleeding chips, but remained optimistic. Madeline, however, was certainly living up to her reputation.

In a showdown against Stephen, the community cards were an ace of spades, a three of diamonds, a jack of spades, a nine of hearts, and a nine of clubs. The pot was over thirty eight grand. Stephen came up with a triumphant smirk as he showed the nine of spades. But, Madeline showed the red aces to win. She never even smiled. Veronica had practically danced on the table when she pulled three grand in chips to her pile, but Madeline just piled her winnings neatly and awaited the next deal.

About fourteen hands in, Veronica placed a tentative hand on Logan's right thigh. He barely flinched. He was good at the whole poker face thing. Her hand crossed his woolen pant leg, her fingers nearly touching the seat fabric between his legs. Logan held in a shaky breath and gave her a stern look, clearly trying to convey that she'd picked a rather inopportune moment to distract him.

She wiggled her eyebrows at him as if to say that she'd chosen the perfect moment. She folded her own hand, concentrating her energies on inching her devilish fingertips ever toward the rise in his pants. She knew the other players couldn't see it, but the muscle in his jaw was ticking. She wondered what sort of cards he was holding. The community had an eight of spades, a jack of spades, and a six of spades.

Veronica looked on as he raised the bet, pushing eight hundred dollars forward. Stephen folded. Terrence groaned and followed suit. Madeline raised, going all in. Logan nearly gasped as Veronica found his cock beneath the telling fabric of his pants.

Connor had folded before the flop. Kayla counted her chips, then folded. It was between Madeline and Logan. And Veronica's fingers. Logan just pushed his chips forward. "All in."

Veronica smiled and stroked him as the turn was dealt. She needed to get him to take a break from the game and she sincerely hoped that this would be his last hand, win or lose.

A nine of spades came on the turn.

The tempo of her strokes increased as the dealer tossed away a card.

The river. Seven of spades.

The sight of the card caused joy to register on Logan's face. He choked on a half-gasp, half-laugh as he tossed his cards face up. Ten of spades and a queen of spades. A flush.

Madeline scowled and pushed away from the table, never revealing her hand. Veronica pulled her hand away from him. Logan's grin dimmed slightly and he fixed her with a wondering gaze as he gathered his winnings.

"I think we need a drink break after that." The reprieve came from Terrence, who was eying his own dwindling pile of chips mournfully.

Logan didn't wait to hear everyone consent. He jumped up, pulling Veronica with him.

Briskly, he walked her toward the ladies' lounge.

"One minute," he hissed under his breath. "You have one minute to prepare yourself before I join you in there."

Veronica grinned and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "No can do. I have company." She nodded almost imperceptibly toward Madeline who was now entering the bathroom.

Logan started to protest, "Look, I don't care if the Swedish Bikini Team is in there, doing lines from one another's-"

"Go get our chips and cash 'em in," she cut him off with a dazzling grin. "I'm going to need to make a quick getaway. And, if you behave, I'll reward you when we get home."

Logan opened his mouth to answer back, but thought twice and turned back to the bar without comment.

Veronica slipped into the bathroom. Judging by the red spikes facing away from the stall door, Ms. Carey either peed standing up or she was helping herself to her product.

Veronica made no bones about rattling into the restroom. She "dropped" her lipgloss and let it roll between Madeline's shoes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Do you think-" Veronica was cut off when Madeline opened the door. "Thanks." As the taller blonde walked around her to the mirror, Veronica stooped to pick up the errant tube. As she did, she surreptitiously glanced up at Maddie's face. Reddened cheeks? Check. Sniffles? Check. Telltale flecks of white powder below her left nostril? Triple check. This woman was not shy.

Veronica joined her at the vanity and applied the gloss to her lips. Adopting her best dumb blonde sympathy act, she spoke up. "God that last hand really blew. I'm sorry."

Madeline snorted laughter. "Yeah, right. You're his girlfriend. You're probably going to be singin' in the streets later, honey. Hope he buys you something shiny. No big, right?" She shrugged and made to reapply a shade of pink lipstick that had to have been purchased in 1987.

Veronica smiled, unsure of what exactly she should say. "So, uh, what do you do? How do you know Connor?"

"You know how I know Connor. That's why you followed me in here, ain't it?" At Veronica's surprise, she laughed. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Oh," Veronica looked abashed and tore her gaze away from the other woman. "I-"

"Look, honey, I got to get goin', ya know? You buyin' or what? 'Cause I'm out a grand and I could use the score."

Veronica cut her gaze back up to the woman's face. "Oh! Yeah. Of course. Uh, how much?"

"Nine hundred for an ounce."

At Veronica's startled expression, Madeline grunted. "Don't even both trying to talk me down. I know you two can afford it."

Veronica just grinned weakly and handed over the cash, despite how illicit it felt to be to buying coke with her dad's money. Then again, it wasn't like he hadn't asked her to.

"Hey, thank your boyfriend for me, okay? At least he got me outta this joint early. Now I can get back to my real life." Madeline breezed past her and out the door.

Veronica looked at the bag of white powder in her hand. She felt sullied, so she stashed it in her bag and busied herself with removing the wire. She was handing both off to Keith that night as he didn't want her to somehow run afoul of Don Lamb while carrying an ounce of coke _and _evidence in his biggest, splashiest case. It would have been like Christmas for the sheriff and neither Keith nor Veronica wanted him celebrating early.

Plus, she didn't need recorded evidence of what might go down in the elevator between her and Logan.

She exited the bathroom to find Logan already waiting for her. His jaw was set and he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

She slid her arm into his, sweetly and looked up at him. "Did you say our goodbyes? Give our excuses?"

"I told Connor you offered to give me head while he watched. Then I decked him and made out with his girlfriend when he agreed. Terrence and I played _Over the Top._ I now have custody of his Super Bowl ring. But, he gets to visit it on holidays and weekends."

The words were terse and his grin was hidden, but as the elevator doors dinged closed, Veronica kissed him quiet.

The ride was over too quickly. Logan had seriously contemplated hitting the emergency stop, but Veronica admitted that Keith was already waiting or her in the lot.

"But, my reward?" Logan sounded so mournful; Veronica almost didn't have the heart to laugh at him. Almost.

"I'll make it up to you?"

"Veronica! You're killing me!"

Veronica smiled sheepishly as they exited the casino. She spotted her dad's blue sedan immediately. He was pretending to read a magazine, checking his cell phone once as she approached with Logan on her heels.

"Hey, dad!" she chirped by way of greeting. She made to walk around toward the passenger side, but Keith caught her arm through the open window.

"Sorry, honey, but this has got to be quick. Cliff needs me in Vegas," he grinned guiltily at her before acknowledging Logan with a nod, "Logan."

"Mr. Mars." Logan was doing his very best to keep his gaze on the roof of the sedan and off of the junior Mars' formfitting dress.

Veronica quirked an eyebrow at her father. "Come again?"

Keith grinned and smoothed a hand over his head. "Yeah, from what I caught between his blubbering and slurred words, one of his 'clients' skipped town. When he went to, uh, _find_ her, he ended up plastered in a bar and out one fake Rolex, fifteen hundred in chips, and the keys to his car."

Veronica groaned and handed over the evening bag from which she'd already removed her keys and phone. "Well, be careful. And, if you end up in a similar situation, don't call me until tomorrow morning. I like the whole "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" thing."

He nodded. "I'll probably just get us a room there. I'm pretty wiped after chasing that Proctor guy halfway across Arizona."

"How'd that go?"

Keith smiled, "Let's just say that there's one less child molester on the loose and a few more zeros in the Mars' Family Trust. How did this go?" he asked, peering into the black bag.

"Well, that's not powdered sugar."

"You checked?"

"Of course. You taught me well," she teased, peeling a few bills away from the wad of cash Logan had presented to her as her winnings, "Put this on double zeros for me."

Keith chuckled and took the cash. "Right. There might be two zeros in the interest-bearing IRA this will be deposited into. Hope that's good enough." He looked at Logan. "Can you make sure she gets home?"

Logan nodded, "Of course."

"And I do mean _my_ home."

"I knew that. Don't worry."

Keith snorted. "Yeah. And, I don't have to tell you that if you plan on-"

Logan smiled and held up a staying hand, "Perfect gentleman."

Keith pressed his lips into a thin line and appraised the younger man. "All right. Kiss?"

Logan quirked an eyebrow at him, "Well, if you insist."

Veronica shoved him playfully. "He means me." She bent through the window to peck her father's forehead. "Be careful."

"Always am. Night, Logan."

"Good night, Mr. Mars."

Once Keith had pulled away, Logan grasped Veronica by the elbow and gently led her toward his Land Rover. "Now you'll have to make good on those promises, Ronnie," he growled into her ear as he helped her into the SUV.

Veronica smiled and settled back, waiting for him to join her.

The ride to the Sunset Cliffs was almost unbearable. Logan battled against Veronica's teasing hands, trying desperately not to wreck. Veronica wanted to tell him to just park somewhere because she couldn't possibly wait any longer. But, she didn't want to give up that sort of control.

As soon as they'd managed to make it to the second floor of the apartment complex, Veronica had already unbuttoned three buttons of his white shirt. If Keith had asked any of the neighbors to watch for her, he'd certainly get an earful in the morning. Veronica hardly cared as she pushed Logan against the door, kissing him fiercely as she dug the key into the lock. It hit home on the first attempt and they stumbled through the door.

Logan lifted her into his arms and she let her legs wrap around his waist. They crashed into the island as Veronica kicked the door closed. Logan slammed the lock into place and continued kissing her as he made for her bedroom. He'd already managed to kick off one shoe and was working on the other as Back Up barreled out of Keith's room and collided with the couple. He was bouncing and yipping, turning circles and running to the door.

"He needs to go out," Veronica panted between kisses. Logan dropped his head to her chest. They'd almost made it across the threshold to her bedroom.

Back Up barked again, his tongue lolling happily at the couple. Logan fixed the dog with a glare. The dog barked and appeared to smile back.

Veronica slid out of Logan's grasp and bent to reach for one of her cast off heels.

Logan stayed her with his hand. "I'll go. But, I'm coming right back."

Logan snapped the lead on the dog's collar and went to the door, still wearing only one shoe and half undressed. He turned to see her grinning at him. "I won't be long and don't you dare take off that dress. I'm going to do it."

With that, he was out the door and Veronica spun toward her bedroom. She tossed back the comforter. She was bent at the waist, picking up an errant balled sock when she felt his arms around her.

She straightened in his grasp, luxuriating in the feel of every one of his hard planes aligned with her softer curves.

"Where were we?" he grumbled into her ear, nipping at the flesh just below her right lobe. His tongue laved a hot path down toward her shoulder. He nudged one silk strap down and kissed each freckle he found there individually. His left hand found her breast over the silk and he palmed and pinched her, making her writhe against him.

Her own left hand snaked up and knotted in his short hair and she groaned. He smiled against her shoulder and spun her to face him. Her fingers began working at the contrary buttons she hadn't yet gotten to when he caught both of her hands in his larger one. "I want to see you naked first."

At her pout, he leered at her. "After that little torment at the table, I deserve it." With a lecherous glint in his brown eyes, he nudged the other strap of her dress and she stood still as the silk skimmed over her and pooled around her bare feet. His eyes widened as he took every bare inch of her in. "Perfect." He breathed the word like an unholy prayer.

She smiled beneath his appraisal. It never failed to thrill her with power when she saw his reaction to her. She made to close the distance between them, but he stopped her once more. He smiled and walked a circle around her before finally stopping in front of her again. He reached out to pull her into his arms. Her skin sang at the brush of his fully clothed form on her naked body.

Again, he lifted her. Her head fell back as her soft center met his scratchy wool pants. He laughed, low and guttural. The sound thrilled her even more and she finally felt herself laid on the bed.

He was on top of her, still clothed, murmuring soft things as he teased her with kisses and bites. As he laved and nibbled the sensitive flesh below her left breast, his hand found her hot, wet hollow. She bucked against him and he laughed, indulgently.

He kissed a hot trail down across her tummy, pausing to nibble the thin skin over her right hip before he dipped his head between her thighs and took her into his mouth. As he nibbled and sucked her into submission, she writhed and panted, knowing what waiting must be costing him.

Finally, his talented hands and tongue doubled their assault on her senses and he drove her over edge. She howled his name and arched against him, grasping at his hair, his shoulders, anything to ground her while she felt like she'd never come down.

Logan sat up over her, grinning smugly as he wiped his mouth. He was glistening with a mix of sweat and her and the sight was illicit against the backdrop of her bedroom. She'd never given it any thought, but they'd never been together in her bed. She smiled widely as he settled himself next to her on the rumpled sheets.

"Wow," was all she could manage as she sat up with great difficulty. Her muscles protested, preferring to bask in the sweet way they'd just been loosened. But, Veronica commanded them and she swung her leg over him, straddling his waist. She moaned as her sensitive flesh grazed his hardness.

He closed his eyes and licked his lower lip at her weight on him. Veronica leaned forward, kissing him, tasting herself. "That was wonderful," she murmured against his lips.

Logan had his arms folded behind his head and he grinned up at her. "I know," he answered with a chuckle. "Now what are you going to do for me?"

Veronica sat up again, batting his arm playfully. "Let. Me. Show. You." She punctuated each word by plucking a remaining button open. She smoothed her hands across his toned, tanned chest, pushing the plackets of his shirt open. He groaned as her fingertips grazed his nipples and she smiled, broadly.

Veronica dipped her head to his throat, suckling and biting a path down one side and up the other. She rubbed her breasts across his chest as she separated him from the shirt entirely. He was like a marionette connected to her by a thin string. For every nibble, he moaned. When she suckled him, her called her name. For each kiss, he tangled his hands in her curls and pulled her back to his mouth.

When she reached for his belt, he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. Veronica grinned again and worked the button of his pants slowly. She pulled the zipper down, with excruciating deliberation. Finally, she tugged the pants down, leaving only a pair of boxers between them.

Content to tease him for a few minutes more, she regained her position in his lap and slithered over him, loving the way his moans turned to pleas as his stiffened cock rubbed intimately against her through the cotton. After a few long moments of torturing him, he grasped her arms and pulled her down against his chest.

He turned her onto her back. "No more, Veronica. I can't take it. I need you, now," his voice was heavy with passion and sent a curlicue of pure pleasure all the way to her toes. Writhing on top of him, she pressed him to his limits, her body wet and ready. She curled one side of her mouth into a knowing grin, waiting for him to give in.

He yanked his boxers down and she felt him hard and hot against her entrance. She mewled at the thought of him inside her and suddenly, nothing else in the world mattered other than him filling her. She spread her legs wide, angling her hips toward him. Her breath came in short, uncontrolled bursts and Logan just studied her, his tanned forearms framing her flushed cheeks against the white linens.

"This is killing you, isn't it?" he whispered, a trace of that smug smile beneath his look of longing.

"Yes," she whimpered. "Please!"

"Please, what?"

She swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around him, trying to pull him closer. He smiled but maintained the distance between them. She could feel him, dripping against her own hot, wetness. But, still, he waited for her.

"Logan!" she gasped, wrapping her legs around his hips. She was practically hanging from him.

He leaned closer, but still didn't breach her. He breathed into her ear, "Say it, Veronica."

"Oh, God, Logan! I need you! Inside me! Now."

At her half-screamed admission, he thrust into her. Veronica crumpled beneath him, panting and gasping and matching his intensity, arching backward to feel every last bit of him inside her. He buried his head against her shoulder, clutching her in both arms as he pounded in and out of her slick, narrow entrance.

She held him close and bit down on his shoulder to stifle her scream as she exploded around him, her most intimate musculature spasming around the hard length of him buried to her core. He moaned her name as he gave in to her release. His body rocked against hers for a long moment until the haze of passion dulled to a steady pulse.

When they broke apart, Logan rolled onto his side and nuzzled her neck, laying one arm across her flat belly. "Mmmphvu."

"What?" she asked, her throaty question surprising her. She was shocked she could still speak, much less form coherent words.

"I love you," he clarified. Whether his voice was thick with drowsiness or with emotion, Veronica couldn't be sure.

Veronica didn't reply right away. She never did. Logan's eyes fluttered shut as Veronica decided that some gambles were worth it. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Logan smiled but didn't open his eyes. Veronica matched his grin and curled around him and they fell asleep wrapped in one another's arms.

**XxXxXxX**

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